Ginger Rats
by aemc123
Summary: A teenage witch reflects on her parentage and family life. Next gen, one shot, dramione, AU. A little bit of Ron bashing. If you read and enjoyed please review!


I don't know much about my Father. I know the important bits, the bits everyone else knows. He was a war hero alongside my Mother and their best friend Harry Potter, although Potter was the real star, being the "Chosen One" and all that. If I could describe him as anything, I would describe him as being a periphery character, he would occasionally show his face at a family event unaccompanied for no more than half an hour in which he would stand awkwardly amongst our side of the family making small talk while barely meeting my eyes. Very occasionally the odd birthday or Christmas card would be sent by an owl. But that's about it really. He was more of a ghost than an actual Father. Not that I'm complaining, I have a Dad. A Dad that sends me cards for every occasion without fail, a Dad that witnessed my first word and encouraged my first steps. A Dad that healed my cut knees when I fell, a Dad that hugged me to sleep at night when I had nightmares, a Dad that showed me how to fly my first broom and waved me off on my first journey to Hogwarts. More importantly, he was actually there. Well, technically my Father was at Platform 9 & 3/4 that day, but he was waving off his other kid, the kid he actually bothered with. My Dad was so angry that day my Mother had to keep an arm on his the whole time to make sure his hand didn't sneakily go towards his wand to cast a hex at the "Ginger Rat", he hated seeing how it affected me when I saw him standing there, so loving towards his Son, something he would never be towards me. The realisation that he had a family which didn't include me really hit me that day. He had a kid that he seemed to love, why couldn't he love me? Was I not good enough? He would never be a Dad to me like he was towards that boy. But as I said, I have a Dad. So when I turned my nose up at them and sneered, I looked towards my Dad and gave him a massive grin. Who needs Ginger Rats?

My Dad was ecstatic when I was sorted into Slytherin. Mum had bets on Ravenclaw, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny both bets on Gryffindor, he told me in my first letter from home that it had been the best feeling ever taking money from their hands, he loved being right. A lot of people had been shocked when they first found out, almost as if it was pretty much given that the daughter of two Gryffindor war heroes wouldn't be placed anywhere else. Well, I proved them wrong. Me and my Dad are more a like than they think. We like the same things, playing Quidditch and watching Quidditch matches being the top two on the list. We always seem to be thinking the same things as well, backing each other up in arguments that we might have with Mum. However, we mostly, well, always disagree on the same things too. Which nine times out of ten ends in an explosive argument which normally puts Mum right into the middle of it as she smirks and comments that it reminds her of when her and Dad used to fight when they were younger, when they still hated each other. That isn't true, of course. Me and Dad couldn't argue like them two ever did. Speaking of my Mum and Dad, I had never seen a couple quite like them. Vastly different in personality but yet they just seemed to click and fall into place naturally when they weren't bickering over something or another, I wished that one day I could be in a relationship as strong as theirs is. Aunt Ginny once told me that a relationship like theirs was rare, that it was truly unique and nobody could pull it off as well as they did. I agreed with her, their marriage and my parentage made a pretty interesting family. But we worked. I only have one other sibling, a younger brother named Scorpius. Weird name, I know, but Dad wanted to carry on his family's tradition of giving celestial names and considering he had always been a bit peeved he didn't have a say in naming me as he considered me his child as much as Scorpius, Mum begrudgingly gave him naming rights of my little brother. It actually really suited him, although I would never tell Scorpius that, it was one of my favourite past times, teasing him about his weird name. However I would never admit that I desperately wanted a weird celestial name too.

Scorpius, who was four years my junior, was as identical to Dad as I was too Mum (however my brown hair was a lot less bushy than Mum's and only had a slight wave to it. The only good thing about my real Father's genes) but it was our traits that were different. Scorpius was as studious and bookish as Mum, while I was as sneaky and ambitious as Dad. Although I was studious too, my parents had drilled it into me that education was important and was the only thing that could take me places. My Grandfather had scoffed at this and told me although education was important, money could take me to high places too and it was a good thing that I had a lot of it. My Mum was so furious I didn't dare reveal that I agreed with him and was desperate to find out precisely how much money I had hidden in a vault at Gringotts, although I was pretty sure Dad knew. I was so grateful that I had Scorpius in my life. Even though he was an annoying little dolt, he could be alright sometimes and he definitely wasn't as annoying as Albus is to James. And I like it when he looks up to me for guidance, Mum hates it when I lead her perfect little Angel astray with my usually bad advice. However I do sometimes make an honest effort to help him, like that time I beat up those snotty nosed kids when I was ten for taking away all of his Chocolate Frogs. Mum and Dad got a right earful from the parents when there kids came home all bruised and weepy, crying how the nasty girl hurt them. They then gave me an even bigger earful to teach me the importance of not using violence as a means to solve situations. However I'm pretty sure they were proud of me for looking out for my brother, Mum didn't show it as to not praise my bad behaviour, but when I woke up the next morning I found five galleons under my pillow and a secret smile from Dad when I nonchalantly announced I was taking a trip into Diagon Alley with the House Elf.

Recently I was out in Diagon Alley alone, looking at all the pets in The Magical Menagerie, my 17th birthday was on the horizon and I was desperate for either a Cat or an Owl to call my own. Dad had hinted that this may be a possibility. I was cooing at some kittens when I felt a demanding tap on my shoulder. I turned round to find a tall boy with flaming red hair and brown eyes the same shape as my own.

"You're Rose Weasley, aren't you? I don't think you know me," he began, his eyes searching mine. Of course I knew him. I had spent the whole time at Hogwarts avoiding him. "I'm Hugo Weasley your-"

"Oh Hugo, there you are! Your Mum was worrying herself sick..." Ronald Weasley's chatter stopped abruptly when he found himself facing me. His eyes locked with mine for approximately five seconds with a stony, shocked silence before he broke the eye contact and dropped his eyes to the floor. That was the longest he had ever held eye contact with me. Sixteen years of rage flared up inside me.

"No, you don't know me," I snapped, staring directly at Ron, who had reluctantly met his eyes with mine again. "And you never will." I pushed past Ron, bumping him with my shoulder which caused him to loose him balance slightly and stumble to the side.

I stopped abruptly and turned to face the shocked pair once more. "And it's Rose Malfoy, for future reference."

Stupid Ginger Rats.


End file.
